The Wawanakwa Sector
by xXPokePotterIslandXx
Summary: Courtney is a gifted cadet of the Wawanakwa Sector Security Corps, with exactly two main goals in mind: to be the best cadet in the Corps, and to avenge her father's death by killing the mysterious Project Bio. But when a battle with a bandit crew strands her, her team and the bandits deep in the Wawanakwa Sector, she discovers there is more about project bio than she ever thought.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Total Drama franchise.**

I little girl is sitting on a large couch, facing a holographic projection. Her young face is completely blank as she stares at the image of a giant space ship, caught mid explosion. The only thing betraying any emotion in the young girl is the anxious twitching of her long, brown tail.

"_Authorities believe the attack on the Arc Vessel "Asteroid" to most likely be the result of a bandit attack due to the fact that that the ship went down in the notorious Wawanakwa Sector."_ The voice of a reporter speaks from the holo-projector, describing the image._ "The number of casualties is still unconfirmed, but among the dead is Bast Council Representative, Gerald Siame." _

The image of the exploding Arc Vessel changes to an image of a tall, sturdily built man with brown skin, black hair, furry black pointed ears and a long black tail curling around his right leg. The girls own pointed ears dip so that they are pointing away from her skull and her breath catches. The sound of an opening door comes faintly from the hallway, but the girl doesn't turn, keeping her gaze fixed on the image of the man as the reporter continues to explain his visit to the Earth Continent that was the reason the Arc found its way into the Wawanakwa Sector in the first place

"Courtney?" The girl doesn't answer the voice. "Courtney sweetheart…there's something you should know." Still, the girl gives no reply, but continues to watch the footage. A woman comes into the room. Her skin is much lighter than the girl's but other than that the two are near identical. It would be obvious to any onlooker that they are mother and daughter. The woman's eyes are red and puffy as if she's been crying, her ears are dipped, and her tail is hanging low to the ground. The woman follows her daughter's gaze to the projection, which has turned back to the image of the exploding Arc. The woman slowly walks over to her daughter and rests a hand on her shoulder. "Courtney…I'm so sorry." The girl just hangs her head. "He's in a better place now Courtney," The woman continues, "he would want you to be happy, you know that." The girl gazes up at her mother with bright onyx eyes, tears shining in their depths. "Was it Project Bio?" The girl's mother gasps at the soft-spoken question before hesitantly nodding. "Yes, I think so." Her daughter lets out a sob, before furiously wiping her eyes and swallowing another. She then turns to her mother, determination written over every line in her face. "I want to avenge him." The mother's eyes grow wide with horror and she grips her daughter's hand tightly, shaking her head.

"No…no Courtney not now, not with Bio still on the loose! Please, Courtney, don't do it, I can't lose you too!" but the little girl's face only grows more determined. "Mother, I have to. The WSSC is the best place for me to learn how to fight. And I will learn, you'll see, I'll be the best at fighting. And then I'll find Bio, and I'll destroy it."


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Total Drama franchise.**

I groan as I push myself up from the floor. Shakily, I get to my feet and turn to bare my pointed teeth at the elfae who attacked me.

The elfae's slightly gold skin glows faintly with elation, and her bright green elfae-eyes are dancing with excitement. She grins and blows some stray fiery ginger curls out of her face.

"You're still up? Sweet! It'd be no fun if you went down so easily!"

"Shut up, Izzy." I snarl back and charge forward with a mad shriek. Izzy tries to dodge out of the way, but I manage to close one hand around her arm. I dig the sharp fingers of my claw-gauntlet into her skin and coldly say, "Shock.". My gauntlets register my voice command and emit a strong electrical pulse through their claw tips. Izzy's hair stands on end from the shock, revealing her slightly pointed ears, and she laughs hysterically from the electricity coursing through her body.

"Courtney!" I flick an ear towards the voice but remain focused on Izzy. I've been fighting this crazy elfae for twenty minutes already! I'll just hold onto her long enough for her to pass out and then I'll go see what the other person wants.

"Courtney I could use a little help!" This time, I do turn to look.

My aqueidon friend and teammate, Bridgette, is fighting Izzy's teammate, a pantyr named Eva. And she's totally getting her butt kicked.

I glance at Izzy, hoping that the shocks are finally getting to her and that she'll pass out soon. No such luck. She's still happily laughing. I snarl in frustration before letting her go and running over to help Bridgette.

"E-Eva I can breathe on land and in the water…buh-buh-but I can't breathe with your arm wrapped…around my neck." Eva pays no mind to my Bridgette's gasping, simply rolling her eyes and tightening the choke-hold, causing Bridgette squeak with panic.

Just like I did with Izzy, I grip one of Eva's arms with my gauntlets and shock. Eva roars in pain and lets go of Bridgette, who immediately just flops to the floor, gasping for air. Looks like I'm on my own with this one. Great.

I try to slash at Eva again, but she nimbly jumps out of the way and lashes out with one furry, hooved leg to try and kick me in the stomach. But I'm just as agile as Eva, if not more, and easily dart to the side. I grab one of her curved horns and sharply tug downward, smashing the burly girl's skull into my knee. And, just to make doubly sure to knock her out, I grip her neck tightly and send out another shock. Eva's eyes roll back into her head and she collapses.

Bridgette gives me a thumbs up. I begin to smile back before a hard blow to my own skull knocks me to the ground. Darkness starts to close in on my vision and I furiously try to blink it away. I've never been knocked unconscious in a spar, and I never will!

Dimly, I hear Izzy's maniacal laughter somewhere above me. I force my palms under me to try and push myself to back on my feet. I can finish this; I just need to get back up.

I thump sounds out from my left and I turn my head wearily to see Izzy lying next to me, with her eyes closed tightly and her jaw slack.

Groaning and pushing my ears back with effort. I get to my knees to see Trent, an elfae like Izzy, standing over her body. He knocked her out.

"This spar is over!" The supervisors voice rings out from the viewing platform, "The team of Courtney, Bridgette and Trent are the winners! The winning team can now take the rest of the day off."

My ears are dipped and my fists are clenched into tight balls as I stomp down the hallway to my team's living sector. Bridgette and Trent walk behind me in silence. I guess that they know me well enough to sense that talking to me when I'm in one of these moods is guaranteed to get them nothing more than a tongue-lashing. When we reach the living sector though, Trent seems to forget.

"What's got your tail in a knot? We won that fight, remember?" I whirl around to glare at him, my tail lashing with fury. ""What's got my tail in a knot" is that you wouldn't let me finish the fight!" Trent spreads his hands and shrugs. "Noah was already out of the fight, and you weren't looking so hot at that particular moment Court. You looked like you could really use the help."

"He does have a point Courtney." I direct my glare towards Bridgette. The pale blue fins on her elbows and the sail fin on her back flutter nervously but she continues to speak. "You would've done the same thing for us if you saw us struggling to so much as stand like you were! I know you don't like to admit that you need help, but this time you really did!"

"I had the situation perfectly under control!" I snarl. Trent pinches the space between his eyes in frustration at my stubbornness. His skin is beginning to glow with annoyance. "Courtney, Izzy was preparing a Thunder-Hit when I came over! A few more seconds and her gun would've been fully charged and you would be griping in the infirmary about how you don't get knocked out!" Bridgette nods and crosses her blue-scaled arms.

I glare at my teammates a little more before stomping off to my room. Once I'm inside with the door securely closed behind me, I let myself slump over and sigh. I glance casually at the mirror hanging on the wall. I'm a bast. You can see it in my furry pointed ears, my slightly pointier-than-average canines, my slightly long and sharp nails and my long furry tail. My kind is naturally agile and quick and our senses are the strongest of the six intelligent species.

I turn away from the mirror and drag my feet over to my bed. I sit down on it heavily and rub my face.

I'm not dumb, I know my limits, and I know that Bridgette and Trent are right, but that doesn't mean I have to like it. I have to be so good that I won't need their help anymore. I've always been an overachiever. For me, nothing less than the absolute best will do. But it's more than just my personality fuelling my drive to succeed this time. Helping it along, is Project Bio.

I don't know that much about Project Bio, only that it's a human experiment to fuse robotics with a biological subject, giving them the strength and combat features of a battle bot, but allowing them to keep their living creature rationality so that they can improvise when the need arises, something bots can't achieve. It was a good idea in theory, but the experiment went wrong. Project Bio wound up being an empty, emotionless shell, incapable of feeling loyalty or compassion. As a council member at the time, my father saw the demonstration of the project, where it fought and killed a bandit who had years and years of combat experience. He said it was the most horrifying thing he'd ever seen, that something that's technically conscious could kill so casually, as if it were just going out for a cup of tea. He put forth the motion that Project Bio be demolished immediately, but it escaped, and has been running around free throughout space ever since. I joined the Wawanakwa Sector Security Corps not just to learn how to fight, but to learn how to be the best at fighting. I'll have to be, if I stand any chance at killing Project Bio for what they did to my father.

**A/N: And here we have the first chapter! I put in a bit more insight on Project Bio in this one and added descriptions of some other species of aliens that will be featured throughout the story. I'm going to write Courtney in this story with her season 1 personality since I hate mean Courtney with a passion! I hope your enjoying this story so far! Please review!**


	3. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Total Drama franchise.**

I pull the switch and the door-panel to Bridgette's room slides open. I walk over to the huge water tank where Bridgette is sleeping.

Aqueidons like Bridgette are the only member of the six intelligent species that can breathe underwater. She can also breathe on land if she closes her gills, but Bridgette definitely prefers being in the water. She's actually really uncomfortable on land, always tripping and bumping into things. The water is the only place she feels properly at home, and good thing too, since her body is perfectly adapted to it.

Bridgette's skin is completely covered in blue scales, and she has clear membrane stretched between her fingers and toes. There is also a sail-like dorsal fin jutting from her spine and one more fin on each elbow. Right now, the gills on her neck are fluttering gently as she floats listlessly around her tank, still fast asleep.

I roll my eyes and rap my knuckles sharply on the glass wall of the tank. Bridgette stirs a little, and my sharp ears pick up her muffled groans through the glass and water. I rap my knuckles against the tank again, and again Bridgette stirs slightly. I sigh with impatience and climb up the ladder resting against the tank to its open top. Once there, I reach into the water and tug Bridgette out. Her eyes bug out and she starts gasping and choking, trying to keep breathing through her gills. I drop her back into the tank and she takes a few shaky breaths before surfacing again to glare at me.

"Courtney, how many times do I have to tell you, just knock on my tank instead of almost killing me every morning!" I roll my eyes. "I _did_ knock! It's not my fault you sleep like a rock!"

I climb back down the ladder. Bridgette tries to follow me, but her still wet feet slip on the rungs and she falls. Right on top of me. I growl at her until she scrambles of me and helps me back up.

"Sorry Courtney! I keep forgetting to be more careful going down the ladder than going up." I wave away her apology. "Don't worry about it Bridge. I've already woken up Trent. Come on, or we're going to be late for breakfast!" With that, I grab Bridgette's elbow and run out the room.

Bridgette looks at me queasily as I pop another fried scurrier tail into my mouth. I shrug at her expression. "Sorry Bridgette. I know you don't like me eating scurriers, but I have to! I'm a bast! I need to eat these things!" Bridgette shudders, as she looks at the rest of the tails on my plate that I have to eat. "I know, I know. But I can't help it! Haven't you ever seen what a scurrier looks like when they're still alive? They're just these small, furry, squeaking balls with pointy noses!" I just shrug again and eat another tail. She knows I can't do anything about it. Bridgette sighs and scoops some sea-grass into her mouth. Trent chuckles lightly. "Six years of eating together and we still aren't used to each other's eating habits." I shove some more tails into my mouth to keep from answering. I don't trust myself not to say anything about Trent's breakfast of fae-seed muffins, which, in my opinion, are properly disgusting! When I first tried them, I felt sorry for the elfae, who have to eat fae-seed with everything in order for the food to be edible.

The elfae don't have a lot going for them next to the other five intelligent species in my opinion. Their only really unique trait is their golden skin that glows depending on their emotions, other than that, they basically look like humans with pointy ears and uncannily bright green eyes. They don't have many unique abilities either, except for their innate talent for music. Give an elfae any instrument from any planet, and they'd have completely mastered it in the space of a week. Trent's favourite instrument is a human one, with a hunk of wood in the shape of an 8 forming the main body with a flat stick poking out the top that has strings running down it. You pluck the strings to make music.

"Hey Courtney! Trent, Bridgette!" My ears dip and my tail starts to lash furiously at the voice. A bast, an elfae and a pantyr walk over to our table. The bast leans down and plucks one of my tails from my plate. I growl and the other bast tuts disapprovingly. "Really Courtney? Growling? That's so savage of you! You don't want to give us basts a bad name, do you? Well, any more than you already are." I shoot up from my seat, shaking with outrage and hiss, "What's that supposed to mean?" The other bast fiddles with a strand of her long, dark hair. "Well, I've heard a couple of rumours that you needed Trent's help in defeating Izzy's team. Not that I'm surprised," She continues with a roll of her grey eyes, "you and your team are such pathetic losers, you should be grateful the corps actually bothers to send you on missions." I move to lunge at her, but Trent and Bridgette grip my elbows, keeping me from messing up her face even though she _totally deserves it!_ "Is there any particular reason you've come to talk to us, Heather?" I can't see her face, but Bridgette's voice is heavy with contempt. Heather tugs some loose hairs behind a black-furred bast ear and replies nonchalantly. "Oh, I just thought you'd like to know that I've just come back from checking the missions for this week, and that my team is being sent out to follow up on a lead on Project Bio's whereabouts."

I hiss in fury and struggle harder against my teammates' grips.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Heather says sounding not-at-all sorry, "does that make you mad?"

"I think it did Heather!" Heather face palms, and her tail twitches with annoyance as she glares at her elfae teammate. "Lindsay, I was being sarcastic!"

"Oh…" Lindsay nods with understanding, before tilting her head with confusion, "What's being sarcastic?" Heather groans while the pantyr, a small, tubby girl named Beth, explains to Lindsay the concept of sarcasm.

Heather inhales deeply, regaining her composure before smiling at me again. "Your team has been assigned a mission this week too! Something about checking to see if Earth's hospitality rate is still being restored at an acceptable rate? A perfect mission for a useless team!"

For someone who thinks my team is so useless, she sure does a good job in overestimating their strength.

With a mad yowl, I finally break free from Trent and Bridgette and launch myself at Heather. I scratch madly at her face, my long nails easily drawing blood. Heather screeches in pain and shoves me away from her, scratching my arms with her own nails for good measure. We face each other, ears dipped, sharp teeth bared, nails red with each other's blood, tails swishing slowly from side to side.

"Girls, girls! I'm all for a good cat-fight but please not in the dining room." The slow swishing of my tail immediately speeds up to a furious lash as my head snaps around to glare at the human who interrupted my fight with Heather. The Human Council Representative, Chris McLean, who also happens to be the human who sanctioned and supported Project Bio and the vilest person I know. What even is a cat anyway?

Heather shoots me a dagger-filled glare before flipping her hair over her shoulder and flouncing off, Lindsay and Beth right behind her.

I shoot my own glare at Chris, crossing my arms as I do so. "What are you doing here? Looking for more subjects to turn into Project Bios?" Chris chuckles, flashing his perfect teeth. "Man, I wish! I liked the Project Bio subject, really new how to keep things lively in the research facility! Nah, I'm just supervising the training for this week."

I supress a groan. Whenever Chris is on supervising duty, we always wind up doing crazy things for training, like jumping off cliffs or staying up for nights and days on end. Our last supervising councillor had been my mother, who took over as Bast Representative after my father died.

"Anyway," Chris continues, "I came to tell you that we don't have a ship available to take you and your team into the Human Solar System Quadrant of the Wawanakwa Sector today, and since we really need new data on Earth soon, you're going to have to charter a few shuttles from Dock Station 7. Oh, and before I forget," Chris's grin widens and my tail droops. This can't be good. "there's been some criminal activity reported on that particular dock, so I'd watch your belongings if I were you. Good bye, and good luck on your mission!" And with that, Chris waves at us cheerily and walks off to bother another team. Beside me, Bridgette groans. "So not only do we get a boring mission on whether Earth's liveable or not, we have to get shuttles from a criminal infested dock station."

"Knowing Chris, the payment for those shuttles will come out of our salaries." Trent grumbles. I sigh, and walk off, gesturing for my teammates to follow. "Come on. Let's catch some pods to Dock Station 7 and get this mission over with."

**A/N: Heather, Lindsay, Beth and, most importantly, Chris introduced in this chapter! I tried to include more descriptions on the alien species of the characters. Just in case there's still some confusion on what the pantyrs look like, they're basically satyrs with ram's horns. I'm still holding out on the basts' descriptions a little, but I can guarantee that you all should be able to imagine them pretty clearly after you read the next chapter, which I'll try to finish and post in about two or three days tops. If there's still any confusion on what the species look like, just mention in the reviews! The final alien in the six intelligent species will be announced next chapter. Please review!**


	4. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Total Drama franchise.**

My eye twitches and I pinch the bridge of my nose.

"Trent, for the last time I'm not trying to turn you into a "killjoy" I'm trying to get you to think logically about how completely unnecessary and hindering it is to bring your instrument with you on a mission!"

"Court, this mission going to take the whole week, and we're not exactly fighting bandits or anything like that! I've got to keep in practice!"

"You're an elfae in case you've forgotten Trent! A week without playing that thing won't affect your overall skill with it."

"But a week playing will!"

"GUYS!"

Trent and I pause in our argument at Bridgette's sudden outburst. She plants her hands on her hips and glares at the both of us.

"You're being ridiculous! Besides, there's not much point arguing about Trent bringing his instrument with him, since we're already at Dock Station 7 in case you haven't noticed!"

Now that I think about it, Bridgette does have a point. I huff and my ears dip. Doesn't mean I'm okay with Trent bringing his instrument with him though.

On the surface, Dock Station 7 doesn't look like a hub of criminal activity. It has small shops and cafés running along the walls just on the boarder of the canal installed for the aqueidons, people of all species milling about, chartering shuttles, catching tube pods and shopping. The dock station has two levels, the bottom one where we are is for chartering shuttles and catching the tube pods, and the top one is for parking ships. There aren't many there now, just a couple hovers, some hyper-cycles and a medium-sized cruiser.

I start walking over to the shuttle booths. "Come on," I call over my shoulder, "lets charter a shuttle and get to Earth as quickly as possible. I don't want to miss out on too much training back at base." Bridgette clasps her hands together in a pleading gesture. "Oh, come on Courtney, can we at least have some lunch first? I'm really starving!"

My ears dip and my tail starts to twitch in exasperation. "We can stop over at a small café on the way Bridgette, you can afford to wait a bit longer."

"I'm pretty hungry too actually." Trent pipes up and I glare at him. He shrugs, "Courtney, we didn't even finish breakfast when we set off for this mission. Lunch won't take long, and it's not like Earth's going anywhere." I slump over and groan. "Ugh, fine, we can get some sandwiches for the trip." Bridgette whoops with joy and runs off to the nearest café, with Trent in hot pursuit. I follow more slowly, though I _am_ actually a little hungry now that I think about it.

Bridgette takes her sandwich from the shop keeper. I already have mine and take a quick bite out of it.

"Can we go now?" I ask with an impatient tap of my foot. Bridgette rolls her eyes. "Yes Courtney, I've bought my sandwich. Let's just get Trent and then we can charter that shuttle."

We walk back to our table. I frown in confusion when I see that it's empty save for a few crumbs on the table top. Even Trent's instrument is gone. Maybe we got the wrong table?

"Oh ha, ha, very funny Courtney." I turn to the sound of Trent's voice as he walks back. "Where were you?" Bridgette asks.

"I had to go to the bathroom. Seriously though Courtney, for someone so eager to get going this seems kind of like a big waste of time." I tilt my head in confusion. "What does?" Trent rolls his eyes. "Stealing my instrument of course!" My ears dip with anger at the accusation. "I didn't steal it!"

"Well then, why isn't it on my seat where I left it?"

"Probably because that guy took it." Bridgette interrupts, pointing at a retreating figure in the crowd. Sure enough, Trent's beloved instrument is slung over one of their shoulders.

I growl softly. "Guess the criminal activity hasn't quite died down yet." Bridgette lays a calming hand on my shoulder and smiles reassuringly. "Hey, come on, we don't know if they really meant to steal it! Maybe they just confused the case with their own bag or something." I roll my eyes and Trent scratches his head doubtfully. "That seems kind of unlikely Bridgette, but I guess it's worth a shot." I throw my head back and sigh. "Fine, but I'm definitely saying: "I told you so" if it turns out they are a criminal!" My point made clear, I turn on my heel and march through the crowds after the person who took Trent's guitar.

They've reached the second level by the time we catch up to them. Bridgette runs forward and taps them lightly on the shoulder and they turn around.

Annoyingly, I can't see their face since they're wearing a bright-green helmet with a black visor. They're wearing faded blue jeans and heavy black steel-tipped boots. Good for kicking, I remark inwardly with a frown. They are also wearing a faded black jacket with grey shoulder pads and a grinning skull on the left side of the chest. My frown deepens into a scowl. Glad I got my "I told you so" point out of the way, because it looks like I'm going to be needing it.

"Excuse me," Bridgette smiles friendlily up at the person, "but I think you may have taken my elfae friend here's instrument by mistake. It's in that case." The person unslings the case in question from their shoulder. "Oh, this is yours?" I make a mental note that the person is male. "My bad. Looks just like my bag… Oh well, here you go I guess." He holds out the case and Bridgette moves to take it from him. But he throws it over his shoulder before she can.

Bridgette watches, dumbfounded, as the case sails over the railing and off the level. I plant my hands on my hips and glare at the man, tail lashing. "Seriously?"

Suddenly, a form swoops up from the first level. I can just make out black, feathered wings protruding from their shoulder blades and strange, blue hair. An avemales, the only one of the six intelligent species who can fly.

My eyes flick to the instrument case they're holding by the straps and my ears dip. It seems our little thief has accomplices. The avemales calls over her shoulder, sounding annoyed. "Are you kidding me right now? Can you seriously not go an hour without stealing something?"

"You're just mad because now you owe Geoff five intels." The man calls back. He turns back to us and gives us a little wave. "Later." Then he jumps over the rails.

I run over to them just in time to see him land into a roll, absorbing the impact of the fall, and take off running. I narrow my eyes. This guy's got skills.

I snap my head around to Bridgette and Trent. "You guys get Trent's guitar and apprehend that avemales, and also anyone else who's in this little gang of theirs. I'm going after helmet down there." Bridgette and Trent nod to show their understanding. Orders given, I shove my hands into the gauntlets hanging at my belt and jump over the railing to give chase.

I land gracefully on both feet and search the crowd for the thief.

"Well what do you know, cats really do land on their feet!" I snap my head around to the source of the voice and see the thief running off into the crowd. I bare my teeth and give chase.

I'm confident that under normal circumstances I could easily catch the thief. I'm fast and I'm agile. But the crowds are slowing me down, and unlike my prey, I don't shove them out of my way. Though suns know I want to.

I finally push through the bulk of the crowd to see the thief casually leaning against a fountain with his arms folded. he looks into the water idly before looking back at me. "Better watch your step kitty, cat's hate water after all."

"Stop calling me a cat!" I spit and race towards him. Looking almost bored, he steps out of the way, clearly expecting me to run right into the fountain. Well, hate to disappoint you friend but I have no intention of going for a swim today.

I jump a little, my speed carrying me to the fountains rim. I push off with my feet and pounce at the thief. They give a quick yelp of surprise and hurriedly duck. I stick the metal claws of my gauntlets into the ground to catch my skid as I land.

The thief cocks his head at me, looking almost impressed. "Huh. Guess you get to keep all nine lives after all." I blink in confusion. Nine lives? What is he talking about? But he doesn't give me time to speculate on what he means by "nine lives", instead spinning around and running off again. I quickly follow in hot pursuit.

My communicator vibrates in my ear. "Accept." I order hastily as I jump over a table. _"Courtney, It's Bridgette. Nice work getting your communicator on while running."_

"I didn't. I've had it on all day. Didn't you?"

"_Uuh, yeah! Of course! Anyway, the avemales seems to be flying towards the cruiser. Trent and I are trying to apprehend her like you said, but it's kinda hard since we can't fly, and we aren't permitted to use our weapons in public areas for this mission." _I hiss in frustration at Bridgette's report, but my ears prick up with interest as she continues with a bit of good news. _"Happily though, the ship has an entry tube from the canal. Looks like there's an aqueidon on the crew as well. But it's also a way for me to sneak aboard!"_ I grin, forgetting that Bridgette can't see me. "Nice one Bridge! Get in position, I'll keep trying to apprehend the thief. End communication."

"Heads up pussy-cat!"

My eyes widen as the thief throws a table at my head. I duck and instinctively follow its progress as it sails over me. By the time I'm able to switch my attention back to the matter at hand, my prey is nowhere in sight. I wait a few moments, half-expecting a taunting remark about cats (seriously, what is a cat?) but none come.

I scowl and press the button on my communicator. "Bridgette." I say clearly. The communicator vibrates briefly in my ear before it is replaced by Bridgette's voice. _"Hello?"_

"Bridgette, it's Courtney. I lost the thief. How close are you to getting aboard the cruiser?"

"_I've just entered the tube and am being sent up right now. Guess all I can do is hope no one'll be on the other side."_

"Bridgette, listen. Once you're there, telesummon me and Trent aboard with you. I'll inform Trent of the plan shortly. End communication." I quickly proceed to tell Trent about the change of plans while walking away, forcing my tail to flick with what I hope looks like annoyance in an effort to fool the criminals. Once I've ended the communication, I push up the sleeves of my grey zip-up jacket to reveal two wrist-braces with a small fingerprint scanner set in each one. I press my thumbs to the scanners until they turn green, before proceeding to do the same with the braces on my ankles.

I switch my communicator back on and inform Bridgette that I'm ready for telesummoning._ "Great! I'll just wait for Trent to tell me he's ready then I'll bring you aboard."_

"Copy that." I reply and end the communication. I continue to walk away, trying to keep up the ruse that I've given up, a ruse made especially difficult to pull off because of my very easy to read body language which is very hard to control.

Finally, the lights on my braces turn from green to flashing blue, warning me that I'm about to be telesummoned. The flash once, twice, three times, and then my vision blurs to nothing and I become weightless.

Telesummoning is very dangerous if you're not trained for it. All cadets of the WSSC are given a set four braces, two for our wrists, and two for are ankles. They provide a powerful wireless connection to the telesummoner, in this case Bridgette, allowing us to reach them without detection by enemies. The connection is also strong enough to keep our dissolved particles together, though there is still a small risk of winding up with six fingers on one hand and only four on the other or something. Still, even with the braces, you need to brace yourself so your body doesn't panic as it's dissolving, since that increases the speed your particles travel and you'll basically wind up as a shapeless puddle of flesh.

As soon as I'm put together again, the first thing I do is check my fingers, then pull off my boots to check my toes, since they're the body parts most likely to be messed up by telesummoning. I glance up briefly to see Trent doing the same.

Once I'm sure that nothing is out of place, I straighten and look around.

We're in a steel plated corridor, with a small hatch where I assume the entrance tube Bridgette found extends from. We're definitely on the cruiser.

I flick my gaze over to Trent. "All together?" He nods. "Great. Now, we know there're at least three hostile crew members on this ship and possibly more. Plus, judging from how big it was on the outside this cruiser is a decent size. So, to cover more ground, I think we should split up." I point down the corridor. "I'll go this way." I jerk my thumb behind me. "You guys go that way. As soon as you see a point where the paths separate, split. All clear?" Bridgette shuffles her feet uncertainly. "Are you sure it's a good idea to split up? I don't like the idea of all of us going alone. Besides, you said yourself Courtney, we don't know how many criminals are on this ship! What if one of us gets ambushed?"

"Better if it's only one of us that all three of us at once." I reply firmly. Trent scratches the back of his head, sighing. "I can't say I like this either Bridge, but Courtney does have a point. What good will we do if we're all caught?" I nod at him. Bridgette's shoulders slump with defeat. "Well… if you're sure…"

"I'm sure." With that, I turn on my heel and prowl my way down the hallway, gauntlets raised and ready to slash.

As I walk through the ship, I can't help but wonder at how mismatched the crew must be. Some of the walls are covered in carvings, mostly of skulls, others have magnificent art pieces painted straight onto the metal walls. I also pass by a few bowls of pet food. I raise an eyebrow at the weirdness of it. But then again, my crew I also pretty mismatched.

I turn a corner and come to a door with a security panel on the side. I study it with narrowed eyes. Just a standard number pad. I dig my claws firmly into it and little sparks erupt from the punctures. "Shock." The sparks grow as the surge of electricity jolts through the wires of the panel. The door slides open quickly and I dart into the room, just in case short-circuiting the panel will cause it to open and close rapidly. The door stays open.

I look around cautiously. It looks like I'm in the main control room, if the dashboard and radar panels are anything to go by. I walk slowly, deeper into the room. One ear flicks back outside and I freeze. Footsteps. Faint, but growing louder by the minute as their owner approaches. I dash, light-footed, towards a dark corner of the room so that I'm out of sight and crouch down into a ball. The footsteps are joined by furious muttering, but I can't make out the individual words until the approaching person enters the room: "Dammit Geoff, how hard is it to remember to retract a stupid giant tube?" It's the helmeted thief from before.

He hasn't taken off his helmet yet, to my intense frustration. How am I supposed to identify him if I can't even see his face?

He walks over to the control panel and flips a few switches before pushing a lever forward. The floor begins to vibrate and a muffled roar sounds from outside. The ship's thrusters. We're taking off!

Soundlessly, I get to my feet and hold my gauntlets up to my lips so that they will pick up my whispered command: "Shock." I say it as quietly as I possibly can, but the thief stills, straightens and begins to turn towards me. I don't give him the chance.

I charge toward him, gauntlets poised to shock. I imagine his eyes widening beneath that helmet as I prepare to swing at him. But, before I can land a hit, the thief jumps to the side with uncanny speed. My swing latches my gauntlet into the dashboard. Lights flash, dial needles rock dizzyingly back and forth and screens crackle and blur as the dashboard overloads with the sudden surge of electricity. I pull my hand back hurriedly before any more damage can be done. Well, at least now the ship is probably grounded.

An empty, computerised voice fills the room. _"Engaging lightjump in ten seconds."_ I let out a shriek of frustration. A lightjump? Are you KIDDING ME?

The thief turns towards me and I get the feeling they are shooting me a very heated glare. "This is totally your fault you know." They remark dryly. I hiss back at them with bared teeth.

The computerised voice continues to count down the seconds to the lightjump. _"Five… four… three… two… one… engaging lightjump."_

A lightjump is when a spaceship partially weakens the atomic bonds of itself and anyone or anything inside it. It then enters what is known as a "light current", which is like a special path that light travels on, usually formed by the gravitational pull of planets and black-holes. The current pushes the ship along so that it's flying at the same speed as the light. The ship then uses its thrusters and newfound lightness from its sharp decrease in density, along with the natural propulsion it receives from the current, to move many times faster than the light and travel hundreds of lightyears in just a few seconds. And, if my memory serves me correctly (which it always does), a light jump from Dock Station 7 will land this ship in the Wawanakwa Sector. Very, very, deep in the Wawanakwa Sector.

**A/N: Sorry! I know I said two or three days, but this took way longer than expected! Anyway, the final member of the six intelligent species, the avemales, has finally been introduced, along with some new characters who **_**totally**_** aren't completely obvious ;). Anyway, if any of you are confused on why "the thief" kept calling Courtney a cat, I'll give you a hint: it has something to do with her species. Hope you enjoyed! Please review!**


	5. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Total Drama franchise.**

The avemales from earlier has her black wings thrown out in rage as she glares at the thief I'd been fighting. "The Wawanakwa Sector? Are you kidding me? What in the universe possessed you to engage in a lightjump?" The thief unfolds his arms briefly to jerk a thumb at me. "You should be asking _her_, she's the one who shorted out the dash and glitched the ship into doing it. And now I've got a bunch of repairs to do as well!" I glare at him, my fists clenched at my sides. "That shock would've only grounded any other ship, it's not my fault that yours is weird!" Trent frowns at the thief and adds, "Plus, we wouldn't be in this mess if you hadn't stolen my instrument." The thief shrugs, unabashed, as he replies, "You mean the guitar? Human junk fetches a pretty price among certain characters, like I could resist it when you left it just lying there." Trent blinks at him in surprise, "It's called a guitar?"

Our argument is paused when an aqueidon I've never seen before steps between us, holding his arms out in a "break it up" gesture.

The aqueidon looks to be about my age (actually every one of these bandits looks to be about my age except for the thief, and that's only because of that stupid helmet), with blond hair like Bridgette's dangling so it just grazes his chin. We're indoors, but he's wearing a brown, wide-brimmed hat like we were at the beach. His pink shirt is open, revealing his blue-scaled chest, and he's wearing tan pants and boots. He has all the aqueidon features Bridgette has, the fins on his elbows and spine, the stretched membrane between his fingers, and the blue scales, though his are a slightly lighter shade than Bridgette's and his fins are a bit bigger.

"All right guys," He speaks slowly, trying to calm us down, "why don't we all just, chill out for a sec. It doesn't matter who's fault it is on how we got here, what matters is that we're here now and that, if we want any hope of getting out again, we've got to get along!" He grins at us, an easy, relaxed grin. I feel my muscles start to relax and force them to tense up again. Even if we're all in the same ship, it doesn't mean I'm going to let my guard down! These people are still bandits and criminals and cannot, under any circumstances, be trusted!

"Why don't," the aqueidon continues in that same slow, calming tone, "we all just introduce ourselves and share a little info? You know, to help build a more trusting atmosphere! I'll start! My name is Geoff and I love to party!" His voice rises to an ecstatic whoop and he punches the air at the mere thought of a party. I've never seen what's so great about parties; they just seem like a colossal waste of time to me.

Geoff looks around at the rest of us, grinning happily. "Alright! Who's next?"

"I'll go!" I shoot a little glare at Bridgette as she raises a hand. Don't get to comfortable Bridge, these guys are the enemy, no matter how friendly they may seem.

Bridgette waves at the bandits as she introduces herself. "So, hi, I'm Bridgette, and I love animals and am a vegetarian!" Geoff grins at her. "Nice! Alright… Gwen! How about you go next?" The avemales sighs resignedly and folds her wings.

Gwen is obviously a goth. She's dressed entirely in dark colours, but not the "stealthy thief" kind. Her shirt is black with sleeves made of a see-through blue material that matches her hair. She's wearing a black skirt that hangs just over her knees with a frayed hem that looks as though she'd torn off any extra length. She's wearing knee-high, heavy, black, lace-up boots and dark green hose. Her dark eyes are delicately outlined with black eyeliner and she's wearing some weird lipstick that makes her lips look blue. All avemales have hair colours that the other species can't get unless we dye our hair, in Gwen's case blue, but she's dyed streaks of black into it as well. Yeah, definitely a goth.

"Well, I'm Gwen, as Geoff already told you," Gwen introduces herself, sounding incredibly disinterested, "and, I like to do art." Geoff gives her a thumbs up and then turns to the rest of us expectantly. Trent shrugs and raises a hand. "My name is Trent and I'm a musician."

Now it's just me and the thief left. Everyone looks at us expectantly, waiting for one of us to cave and join in on the "bonding".

Well, I guess I have to at least make an effort.

I sigh and raise a hand. "My name is Courtney and my mother's a member of the council." As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I want to slap myself. Great, now I've presented myself as A: a possible hostage, or B: as a high and mighty stuck-up with an overly inflated sense of my own self-importance. Great.

But, to my slight surprise, none of the bandits react in the slightest, except for the thief and even that wasn't the kind I was expecting. He just… tenses up. His shoulders hunch, his fingers grip his folded arms tightly and I get the impression that under that helmet he's gritting his teeth, like he's biting back a flood of rage. But it's fleeting, only lasting for a second or two before he relaxes again. I frown slightly. What was that all about?

The thief turns his head towards me. "So, what, you're a princess or something?" I bristle and my ears dip with annoyance. "Where the heck did you get that from?" He shrugs. "Your mom pretty much rules all the intelligent creatures in this galaxy, basically she's a queen. And the daughter of a queen is a princess." I open my mouth to retort, but he cuts me off, adding casually, "Also, you seem pretty uptight, just like a princess." My tail lashes as I glare at him with all the heat I can muster. "I'm not a princess! I'm a cadet of the Wawanakwa Sector Security Corps"

"Whatever you say your highness." I can practically hear the eye-roll in his voice.

Finally, the thief takes off his helmet. I retreat back a few steps in shock and slight disgust now that I can finally see what he is: a human.

Just like the other members of the bandit crew, the thief is roughly the same age as me. His skin is pale, though not as pale as Gwen's. He has black hair done in a buzzcut and a bright green mohawk. His face is littered with piercings and seems to be set in a permanent scowl. But the weirdest thing about him is his eyes. They're blue, like ice, and just as cold, but they are also weirdly… bright. Like there's an icy-blue lamp just behind his irises, shining through each eye like tiny spotlights. I get the distinct impression that if we were in total darkness, his eyes would cast their blue glow over all of our faces.

Noticing my disgusted reaction, he rolls those strange eyes. "Well, I'm Duncan and I'm a pyromaniac so don't spill petrol on the floor or anything like that while you're here. Also, if any of you have a problem with how I look like Princess over here," he jerks his thumb at me and I bare my teeth in a snarl, "just go ahead and say it, but I can't guarantee that you'll have the same amount of teeth when you get off this ship if you do."

Bridgette and Trent look Duncan over, seeming a little intimidated by his tough exterior. I fight back an eye-roll. In my opinion, he just looks like a guy who thinks that mutilating his face is "cool".

Geoff claps his hands together, satisfied with our "bonding session". "Alright! So, now that we've all been introduced, except for DJ but you'll meet him soon enough, let's find some rooms for you guys!"

I frown in suspicion as I look down a hallway lined with doors, each of which apparently leads to a dorm. "How big is your crew, exactly?" Geoff shrugs casually. "Oh, only four people." I raise an eyebrow sceptically. Why would a bandit crew consisting of only four people have so many sleeping dorms?

Duncan, guessing my thoughts, answers my unspoken question. "What, do you think we bought this ship ourselves Princess? We stole it from a much bigger crew. Anyway, it means you guys have plenty of choice on where to sleep." He talks about theft as casually as if he were ordering a sandwich. I makes me feel a little sick. How can someone be so uncaring of the law?

The rest of my team doesn't share my feelings however and hurry off to pick rooms. I'm about to follow when a sudden thought strikes me, and I turn to our new "friends".

"You said that there are four people in your little band. Where's the fourth?" Gwen grins and jerks her thumb behind her. "That's DJ, our pantyr. He'll be in the kitchen. He's sort of like our cook. You don't need to worry about him. He's a big guy, but his heart's way bigger than his muscles. It's why he prefers to hang back when the rest of us go on raids."

I narrow my eyes, still suspicious, but go off to choose my room.

Once we've all chosen where we'll be sleeping during our (hopefully short) time on this ship, Geoff suggests that we hold a "bonding dinner". So, we all make our way to the kitchen. I carefully memorise all the twists and turns that must be made in order to get from the dorms to the kitchen. This cruiser isn't the largest I've ever been on, but it's plenty big enough to get lost in the maze of hallways.

When we arrive, there's a giant brown-skinned pantyr wearing grey shorts over his furry hoofed legs and a green jacket with his back to us, stirring something in a pot. I sniff the air tentatively and my ears instinctively perk up. Whatever he's cooking, it sure smells good!

"Hey guys," the pantyr, who I can only assume to be DJ, says without turning around from his cooking, "I heard the announcement about the lightjump. Thank Pan it didn't cause the food to burn!" The rest of the bandits reply with a mixture of "heys" and "yeahs".

Geoff walks over to DJ and tugs on his arm. "Come on DJ, we've got guests!" DJ turns the heat down on the stove so whatever he's cooking won't burn and turns to face us.

I immediately see what Gwen meant by DJ's heart being bigger than his muscles. His curled pantyr horns are sharp, but instead of intimidating, they serve only to frame his round face and gentle smile. Now that he's facing us, I can see that he's wearing a big pink frilly apron.

DJ gives us a wave. "Hey guys, how's it going? I'm DJ!" Bridgette waves back and grins. "What's up? I'm Bridgette!"

"Hey man, the name's Trent."

"Courtney." I keep my introduction short and formal. I'm not quite willing to start making friends yet.

DJ turns back to the stove. "I should have enough food for everyone, but Duncan'll have to go a bit hungry tonight." Duncan scowls at this. Gwen, catching the look puts her hands on her hips and smirks at him. "Well, you do eat a lot."

"I get hungry fast." Duncan grumbles back.

I frown and look the punk up and down. He sure doesn't look like he eats a lot. He's actually pretty skinny. I shrug it off. Maybe it's a human thing.

"Do you have any fae-seed?" Trent asks DJ. "Don't worry man, we've got plenty. Duncan here'll eat just about anything so we just gather whatever's edible and pile it on his plate most of the time. I guess humans have strong stomachs." Trent breathes a sigh of relief. Though I'm a little more conservative about it, I'm relieved too. The last thing I want is for one of my best friends to starve to death because of a clumsy mistake I made.

I try not to stare at Duncan during dinner but… it's kind of impossible. Not when he's eating as though he hasn't seen food for a whole week. As soon as DJ slid his plate piled high with all manner of foods, he started shovelling it into his mouth and gulping it down at an impossible rate. Seriously, how fast is this guy's metabolism for him to stay so thin? In about one and a half minutes, he's picked the plate clean of everything except bone. But that's not what almost makes me drop my fork in surprise. That would be him turning to DJ and saying, in a deadly serious voice, "Still hungry." Trent actually spits out his drink with shock.

Gwen chuckles at his reaction.

"You're kidding right? There's no way you can still be hungry after that!" Gwen's laughter grows at the disbelief written all over Trent's voice. Duncan just shrugs and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. "Believe it elf-boy."

"It is kind of shocking at first," Gwen explains to Trent once she's regained control of her voice, "but trust me, you get used to it real fast."

"I kind of doubt that…" Bridgette's voice is sceptic as she stares at Duncan's empty plate.

"Aw man, you should see how much Duncan has to eat to get full!" Geoff grins at her. "This guy could eat an entire restaurant out of business!"

"I won't even ask." I groan and spear a piece of scurrier with my fork.

Duncan raises an eyebrow at my plate. "Yeesh, you eat mice too? Man, you really are a cat." My ears dip and my tail starts to lash as I glare at him. "What is with you and cats? What even is a cat anyway?" Duncan smirks and gets up from his seat to walk over to me. "Well Princess," I growl at the nickname. I'm really starting to hate it. "A cat is a small, furry, four-legged creature with ears that look like _this_," Duncan pinches one of my ears and I yelp, pulling away quickly. "and a tail like _this_." Duncan grabs my tail and tugs it sharply upwards. I hiss and slash at him with my nails, but he simply lets go of my tail and grabs my hands. "Typical princess," His smirk broadens to a grin as he speaks. "can't fight for your life." I bare my pointed teeth in a snarl. That's it, I'm going to kill him.

I'm kept from shredding the punk's arrogant face by two pairs of hands tugging me back.

"Uuh, thanks for dinner, but we should probably have a, um, team meeting now! Bye!" Bridgette grins apologetically while she and Trent steer me towards the door. I cast a murderous glance over my shoulder. Duncan leans casually against the wall and smiles smugly back.

Once we're in my room, Bridgette and Trent let go of me and I immediately begin to rant.

"How can one person be so rude? No, wait, scratch that, he's not a person at all! He's just a rude, disgusting, arrogant _thing_ who-"

"Who you're going to have to live with for the next few weeks at least."

I glare at Bridgette, who shrugs. "Well, it's true! I know you don't like him and, I'll admit, he's hardly trying to be nice…" I snort and roll my eyes. Talk about an understatement. "but if you kill him or maim him or something, the rest of the crew will probably kick us off faster than a lightjump!"

"She's right."

I switch my glare over to Trent as he continues. "We've got to learn to coexist for the time being. All you have to do is keep a cool head and try not to kill Duncan, okay?" I huff. "Fine. But I can't promise that he won't have a few new scars by the time we get off this thing."

**A/N: Let the story begin! Okay, I guess, technically, the story begun weeks ago but now we've gotten into the main part! The bandits have been introduced, we've finally discovered that Basts are basically cat-people and Duncan's annoying Courtney. If any of you are wondering about why he eats so much in this story, you'll just have to keep reading to find out why ;). I'll be on a vacation for the next few weeks so my update schedule might go a little off, but rest assured, I'm taking this story to the very end! Please review!**


	6. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Total Drama franchise.**

I'm not going to enjoy my time on this ship. First of all, there's Duncan, who I've decided to avoid and ignore at all times to try and keep my sanity. Then there's the beds. I swear I hardly got any sleep last night! It's like those mattresses are stuffed with rocks or something! The bathrooms smell awful and the water pressure in the showers is terrible. Admittedly, dinner last night was very good, so I guess the food's alright, but that's practically the only upside to this whole thing. Also, this ship is a total maze.

I'm wandering around the hallways randomly, trying to get build a map of the ship in my head. I have a perfect sense of direction, so I'm confident that I'll be able to work out where the different rooms are pretty quickly. Even if I'm struggling to remember where my room is a little.

My ears twitch suddenly as sounds other than the ever-rumbling engines of the ship and my own footsteps reach me. It sounds… like sparks. And clicks. Snaps. Clangs. And I think a few grunts?

Curiosity piqued, I follow the noises.

I find myself in front of the door to the control room. The security panel is covered in duct-tape now, but the door is still stuck open, revealing the source of the noise. My ears dip and my tail immediately begins to lash. The source is Duncan, fixing the dashboard with his sleeves rolled up.

I start to turn away. The last thing I want is another round of insults about cats and princesses, or to be around a human. But then I notice something. I frown at it for a bit, trying to figure it out, but it's too unusual, too unique. Which means the only sure way of finding out would be to ask Duncan.

Steeling every nerve in my body, I walk forward as much as my disgust for his species will allow me and point at what had caught my attention. "What's that?"

It gives me a strange satisfaction to see Duncan jump at the unexpected interruption, but he quickly recovers, and my satisfaction evaporates.

He follows my pointing finger and raises an eyebrow at me. "Why does it not surprise me that the Princess doesn't know what wire-cutters are?" My tail immediately starts to lash at the "Princess" comment. I swear, he'd better not call me that the whole time!

"I didn't mean the wire-cutters, dimwit!" I snap as I close the distance between us, my rage overpowering my revulsion. "I meant these scars!" I grip his upper forearm firmly and hold it up right in front of his face so that he has no chance of missing the thin, pale line neatly circling his wrist. There's an identical scar on the other.

He gives me an unreadable expression, blinking his eyes slowly. I suppress a shudder as I feel their strange shine on me. Those eyes…I don't know if it's normal for humans to have such bright eyes but, looking at them now, they feel wrong, unnatural.

"First of all," his tone is empty as he speaks to me, "don't call your host a "dimwit". And second of all," With sudden, unexpected force he yanks his arm out of my grip. "if you already know that they're scars, then why ask me what they are?"

I scowl at him and fold my arms. "Fine, I'll be more specific. How did you get those scars?" Instead of answering, he turns back to the dash and starts snapping the wire-cutters. "Why do you want to know?" he finally replies without looking at me. I'm seething with impatience, but I curb my temper. I want answers, and I'm not letting the only one who can give them bait me.

"The scars each completely surround your wrist in a straight line and, judging from the scars' appearances, they were inflicted with a blade of some sort. That means you couldn't have gotten them from rubbing your skin raw inside shackles, but you also couldn't have gotten them from a normal knife fight since the scars, from what I can tell, are perfectly straight and neat."

"Get to the point, Detective Kitty." Duncan grumbles under his breath. I glare at him as continue, "I want to know how you got them because they couldn't have been obtained in the usual ways, human!" Duncan raises an eyebrow and a bit of amusement creeps into his gaze. "Was that supposed to be an insult?"

I growl deep in my throat but offer no worded reply. I don't trust myself not to hit him with a barrage of insults and forget about what the scars.

Duncan is unfazed by my aggressiveness and simply shrugs. "I was just unlucky, that's all." I open my mouth to demand for more information, but Duncan cuts across me with a question of his own. "If we're doing another "get to know you" thing, then let me ask you something. What mission could be so unimportant to your precious corps that they chose to send an animal lover, a musician and a princess to take care of it?"

My face scrunches up with anger and I fervently wish that our mission _had_ been important, not just a check-up on an uninhabitable planet.

I cast my eyes to the floor and grumble, "We were sent to analyse Earth's hospitality recovery." Duncan turns back to face me and gives me that unreadable look again. "Just how stupid do you think I am?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?" I drawl in reply. Duncan rolls his eyes, but his mouth quirks up briefly into a tiny smile at my comment. "Why would you be at a dock station if you're checking Earth's hospitality?" I scrunch up my shoulders and look away, scowling. "The WSSC couldn't spare us a proper ship so we were ordered to charter shuttles from Dock Station 7."

I feel suddenly embarrassed. My team has always performed well in the training simulations and scenarios, but our rank isn't good, we always get stuck with the least important missions. The fact that the WSSC can't even spare us a ship just highlights our lowly rank.

Duncan snorts, snapping me out of my thoughts. "Well that was stupid of them. You can't get to Earth on a shuttle." I tilt my head, curious. "Why not?"

"Back when humans still lived on Earth, we shot a bunch of stuff into space and that stuff got pulled into orbit around Earth, flying around really fast and smashing into each other creating even more stuff. Since we left to live on Continent, the stuff kept on multiplying and creating a sort of shield around Earth. To get to Earth, you have to go through all that junk. To get through all that junk, you're going to need a seriously heavily armoured ship."

"But it should all be perfectly harmless by now right? If it's just been getting smaller." I reply. Duncan shakes his head. "This stuff is travelling at super high speeds. A fleck of paint has the force of a bullet. A shuttle, and everyone inside, would be completely destroyed before it even entered the upper atmosphere."

My eye twitches. My tail starts to lash and my ears dip as far as they can go. Of course, _of course_ the WSSC couldn't be bothered to give my team the right equipment to actually complete our mission! Never mind the fact that we hold the record for most sparring matches won, never mind that Trent's an expert marksman, or that Bridgette's the best medic in our age group, or that I've never been knocked unconscious, we're still just the underdog team that always gets stuck with the least important stuff. The team that never gets to work as an actual security unit. The team that must be kept out of danger at all times unless the WSSC wants Councillor Elizabeth Siame to get mad at them.

I clamp my throat against an enraged shriek and clench my fists to keep from scratching at the walls. Pain sears through the soft flesh of my palms as my sharp nails pierce through the skin. I can feel the blood dribbling down my fingers and hear the droplets as they hit the floor. I only clench my fists tighter.

I shut my eyes tightly and grit my teeth. Stay calm Courtney, you're not going to be doing yourself any favours by blunting your nails as you try and scratch the metal walls of the ship, or by screaming at the top of your lungs. Just stay calm. Stay calm.

My eyes snap open as I feel something on the corner of my jaw. Just a pressure, scratching at the bone. My tense muscles start to relax and my hands finally unclench. It feels…nice. Relaxing, almost. A tiny smile tugs itself across my lips and a soft purr begins to rumble in my throat and chest. I hardly ever purr, in fact, I haven't purred once since my father died.

The unusual action shocks me out of my newfound calm and I realise what the pressure on my jaw is: Duncan's fingers.

I hiss and recoil, retreating back several steps and cringing away from his touch.

"What are you doing?" My voice is a borderline shriek as I lean as far away from Duncan as I can. He rolls his eyes but continues to smirk cockily at my reaction. "Scratching your chin, duh! You were looking pretty wound up and it works on cats so…" he shrugs. "Besides, don't pretend you didn't like it. I saw you smile, and I know what a purr means." He leans toward me, grinning.

Heat rushes to my cheeks and I give an incoherent cry of rage. As I storm out of the control room, Duncan calls after me, "Just wait until you try catnip for the first time!"

**A/N: And here we have an exclusively Duncan and Courtney chapter. Courtney's found another mystery regarding Duncan, Duncan's teased Courtney about her cat-like tendencies some more, and we've gotten some insight on Courtney's team's rank in the WSSC. Also, Courtney is actually trying to control her temper for once! Please review!**


	7. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Total Drama franchise.**

"_This_ is the best you could find?"

Duncan rolls his eyes at me. Normally, that would prompt me to glare right back at him but I'm too busy looking at the space station we've docked at in complete and utter disgust.

The place is filthy for one thing, and if the flickering overhead lights are anything to go by, not very reliable power-wise. Most of the "shops" are either abandoned with broken windows and the doors hanging open by one hinge, are sporting the logos of companies that are marked as criminally-operated on the WSSC database or are sleazy-looking bars. Of all the places to stop for fuel…

Bridgette's fins flutter nervously as she studies our surroundings. "I'm with Courtney. This place gives me the creeps." Geoff steps up beside her and throws his arm around her shoulders. "Relax. We've been to places like this plenty of times! We know how to handle 'em." Bridgette grins at him bashfully and… is she _blushing_? Ugh!

I try to glare at my teammate, but she's too busy gazing into Geoff's eyes to notice. We can't get too attached to these guys! They're criminals for galaxy's sake! Our job is literally to arrest people like them! You can't very well work for the WSSC and date a criminal at the same time!

"We should also get more food while we're here." DJ says, "It's hard enough making food for three people and Duncan, adding three more isn't helping us to keep the pantry fully stocked."

"This isn't looking good for our budget." Gwen grumbles under her breath.

Duncan glares at all of us. "Look, can we just get this stuff and leave already?" Without waiting for an answer, her puts on his helmet and stomps off to fuel the ship.

"Is he never in a good mood?" My ears twitch as Trent whispers to Gwen, who shrugs. "Sometimes, if he's just set something on fire."

"Huh. I'd think one look at your face would be enough to put someone in a good mood," Trent grins at the avemales. "but maybe that's just me." Oh, not Trent too! Am I the only one on my team who fully understands our situation?

"Uh… DJ?" For the first time since I've met him, Duncan sounds uncertain. DJ has also noticed and frowns worriedly. "Yeah man?"

"How much food do we need, exactly?"

"A lot, especially because Trent can only eat foods that contain fae seed and I'm starting to run low."

Duncan folds his arms and turns to study the fuel pump. I get the distinct impression that he's biting his lip underneath that helmet.

"Do you guys think we have to fill this tank to the brim or can we get away with, like, halfway or something?" My ears start to dip with worry. I'm not liking where this is going.

Geoff scratches his head uncertainly before replying. "I think it has to be completely full bro. Who knows when we'll be able to stop for stuff again."

Duncan slumps over and huffs with disappointment. "Well in that case, we're going to have to think of a way to get our hands on a load of cash soon because a full tank's gonna pretty much empty our pockets."

"Don't even think about stealing the money!" I glare at Duncan's crew, daring them to object. I don't want to be stuck on a ship with no money any more than they do, but, as a cadet of the WSSC, I refuse to stand by in while others shamelessly break the law.

Gwen rolls her eyes at me and looks around, only the fluttering of her large black wings giving any indication of her unease. Her gaze alights on a bar, with light glowing faintly out of the grungy windows and raucous laughter echoing from inside. My sensitive nose can pick up the stench of alcohol from here.

Gwen smirks and jerks her thumb at the bar. "How about we try a Bar Bet?"

I exchange confused glances with Trent and Bridgette, but Geoff and DJ (and presumably Duncan) grin with satisfaction and start making their way towards the bar.

"Hold it!" I shout after them, "What do you mean by a "Bar Bet"?"

"It's just a way to earn money quickly." Duncan replies nonchalantly, "Chill Princess, it's not illegal." I bristle at his use of the nickname but reluctantly follow him and his crew into the bar.

I fight the urge to hold my nose against the stink of the bar, which is a mix of sweat, alcohol and barf. Lovely.

I glance around at the building's compatriots, many of whom are, I note with no small amount of distaste, humans. Their ugly laughter and rude jokes grate at my sensitive ears and I bite back a gag.

Bridgette is openly holding her nose, so her voice is pretty nasally when she asks Geoff: "So how does a Bar Bet work?" Geoff, who is unaffected by the smell (he's probably been to plenty of bars like this), grins at her and explains. "First, we find some guy who's got no qualms about drinking too much. Then, Duncan challenges him to a drinking contest. While the contest is underway, Gwen, DJ and I go around placing bets for Duncan, so that when he wins, we make a ton of cash!"

I raise my eyebrows in shock at the stupidity of the operation. Hundreds of things can go wrong! Duncan could lose, for one thing, and that would leave everyone in some serious debt! Plus, Duncan will wind up completely drunk without fail. I can only imagine how much more of an ogre he will be then, and I don't want to have to listen to him complain endlessly about a hangover tomorrow morning either.

I note with some satisfaction that Trent is frowning, which means he must see why this plan sucks so much as well. But my satisfaction turns to disappointment when instead of asking questions like: What if Duncan loses? He asks: "What if the guy Duncan challenges refuses?" Really Trent? _That's_ the biggest flaw you can find with this whole thing?

Duncan stretches his arms above his head leisurely. "Oh, I have my ways."

"You work them up into a frenzy so they want to crush your skull and will do anything to make you look bad, don't you?" I drawl. In response, he throws his arm around my shoulders and cocks his head in amusement (he's probably smirking as well). "Aw, we've only known each other for a week and you already know me so well!" I bare my teeth and hiss as aggressively as possible.

Trent's face lights up and he points out a man who's laughing particularly loudly. "How about that guy? I just saw him order another round." Gwen raises her eyebrows appreciatively at him. "Good eye!"

"Ah, it was just dumb luck. You would've spotted him quicker. Your eyes are really sharp!" Gwen turns away, but not before a see the blush rapidly growing on her pale skin.

"Alright," Duncan says confidently, cracking his knuckles, "let's get this show on the road."

He saunters over to the man Trent pointed out and leans casually on the bar next to him. He takes off his helmet and, carefully, deliberately, spits in the man's drink. At first, he just stares into his mug, but then he turns his furious gaze on Duncan, who tilts his chin up to meet it and smiles amiably.

"You're gonna regret that." The man snarls. Duncan feigns a look of surprise. "Regret what?"

"You just spat in my drink you little punk!"

Duncan looks down and studies his legs, looking confused. "I'd say I'm more of an average height but…"

The man reaches over and grabs a fistful of Duncan's shirt. "You won't be laughing when I've knocked all your teeth out."

"You ought to be thanking me. One more drink and you would've keeled right over!"

"And how would you know, little teenager?"

"Again, average height, but you don't seem to have much of a capacity for drink. I bet I could drink more than you."

The man's eyes are practically bulging out of his face with fury by now, and Duncan is still smiling.

"I could outdrink you any day of the week!"

"Yeah, sure, and I'm a bast."

"If you were, I'd have snapped your neck already!"

My eyes widen at that last comment. What did this guy have against basts?

Duncan shrugs at the man. "Fine. You think you can outdrink me? Prove it. Drinking contest: you and me." The man glares at Duncan for what feels like an eternity before finally letting go of his shirt. "Fine. Loser pays for the drinks."

"Deal."

The bartender slides along two large jugs of beer and both men start chugging and Gwen, Geoff and DJ get to work.

"I'll bet you twenty intels that the guy with the mohawk will win."

"Thirty intels says that teenager will win!"

"I've got twenty-five intels on the punk guy, any takers?"

I listen as the bets are placed and taken while I wait for Duncan and the man to start slowing and become drunk. And the man does start to slow, his speech slurs, his eyes lose their alertness and he starts to slump as he loses control of his muscles, but Duncan doesn't slow down, or even begin to get drunk. His words are as clear and taunting as ever, his eyes are bright and his posture is… well, not straight but not slumping like his opponent.

Finally, after the… I think twentieth jug? I wasn't counting. The man's eyes roll back into his head and he falls to the floor with a crash, unconscious.

Duncan smirks down at him. "Told you I could drink more."

He puts his helmet back on as Geoff, Gwen and DJ collect all the money from their many bets and saunters over.

I narrow my eyes at him suspiciously. Normally, I'd put his apparent immunity to alcohol down to the fact that he's human, but humans clearly get drunk just like any other species. And then I realise something. I'd put Duncan's weirdly bright eyes down to the fact that he was human. But this bar is crawling with humans! And their eyes are just the normal blue's, browns and greys. None of them are like Duncan's, none of them glow.

**A/N: And I'm back! Back with another chapter, Gwent and Gidgette, and more reasons Duncan is weird in this story! Also, humans are pretty much the lowest of the low in this AU! But why did that guy hate basts? And seriously, what is the deal with Duncan's freaky eyes, appetite and immunity to alcohol? Well, you'll just have to keep reading! Please review!**


	8. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Total Drama franchise.**

My ears are dipped and my tail is lashing as I glare at my teammates. They glare right back at me. I scrunch my eyes shut and take a hissing breath between my teeth.

"I don't think you two fully comprehend the situation."

"And I don't think you fully comprehend why it's important we get along with these guys!" Bridgette exclaims.

"Getting along and dating are not the same thing!" I shout back at her, opening my eyes again.  
"Good thing we're not dating them then, huh?" Trent points out.

I shoot him a dagger-filled glare. "I saw you flirting with Gwen, Trent. Don't pretend you don't like her!" He facepalms and scowls at me. "I'm not saying I don't like her, I'm saying we're not dating!"

"Liking her is still too much!" I snap, "She's a bandit! Our job is to arrest people like her! What if, after all this is over, you come across her stealing something. Will you arrest her like you're supposed to?" Trent opens his mouth to reply, but I cut him off. "No, because you'll be too busy thinking about how pretty she is!"

"Just because you're the team leader doesn't mean you can tell us how we can live our lives, Courtney!" Bridgette suddenly yells in my face. "You can't tell us who we can befriend and who we can hate! Besides, you and Duncan are always talking and hanging out, so who are you to say that Trent and I are getting too close to the other crew?"

I gape at her, my eyes wide with shock. Did Bridgette just say that I'm becoming close with Duncan? Duncan, as in, the arrogant, rude human with freaky eyes?

"Duncan and I aren't "talking", we're arguing." I growl, "And we're always "hanging out" because he's always following me around and bugging me incessantly!"

"You do realise that means he likes you right?" Trent asks. I give him a look.

"I'm serious! Some guys are purposefully annoying to the girls they like to get their attention!"

I raise an eyebrow at him. "That is the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

"Hey, I'm not saying it's a particularly effective method, but that's what he's doing."

I open my mouth to reply, but our argument is interrupted by the door panel sliding open and Geoff stepping inside.

"Hey guys! DJ's finished making dinner so… who wants to head down to the dining room to get some munchies?"

Bridgette and Trent both grin and start making their way to the door. I follow them out but turn the opposite direction when they start making their way down the hall.

"Uh, hey Court? The dining room's this way." Geoff calls after me.

"You guys go ahead. I'm not hungry." I reply without looking back.

I head to the ship's data centre, or as the others like to call it, the tech room.

I approach the main computer and quickly type in the passcode. It hadn't been hard to acquire, all I had to do was ask Geoff when no one else was around. I swear, that guy is ridiculously naïve.

Once I'm in, I immediately log into the WSSC database and open the "Missions" file. I scan through the list rapidly, before my eyes finally land on what I'm looking for: the Project Bio retrieval mission.

I click on it, and read the data:

DESCRIPTION: RETRIEVAL OF PROJECT BIO

LOCATION: WAWANAKWA SECTOR STATION #000080973

TEAM: HEATHER KORAT (BAST); LINDSAY PINE (ELFAE); BETH SATYROI (PANTYR)

STATUS: FAILED

I stare at that word. That one simple word. Failed.

Heather and her team had failed their mission. They hadn't captured Project Bio. On the one hand, this meant they would receive a fair number of demerits and their ranking will go down, and if anyone deserves to lose their ranking, its Heather. On the other hand, Project Bio is still at large, a technologically enhanced being with no emotion, no soul, and no empathy who could kill as easily as I can blink. Who has already killed my father.

"You know, it's generally not a good idea to look up classified stuff with the door open."

I yelp and jump up about a foot in the air. I whirl around to glare at who had spoken and am met with Duncan's smirking face.

His gaze drifts down to my tail and he sniggers quietly. I follow the look and feel my cheeks heat up at the sight of my tail with the fur all puffed up. It looks like some sort of bizarre sock!

I quickly grab it and run my hands along it, smoothing the fur while I scowl at Duncan.

"How long have you been standing there?"  
"Long enough to know you feds do some weird stuff. You guys seriously posted guards for a candy store?"

"It had been the subject of twelve robberies in a single week!"

"It's a _candy store_."

I huff and turn back to the computer to close the site, but Duncan shoves his arm in front of me, keeping me from reaching the controls.

"Get out of my way." I hiss at him, ears dipped. He raises and eyebrow, unimpressed. "Didn't your mother ever teach you to share?"

He lifts his head and frowns with bewilderment as he reads the mission data on the screen. I try to shove his arm away so I can regain control, but I might as well be trying to bend steel for all I manage.

He glances at me out of the corner of his eye. "What's Project Bio? A super germ?"

"It's none of your business." I growl, still trying to shove his arm away. Duncan shrugs and clicks on the link at the bottom of the file. Losing my temper, I finally dig my nails into his forearm and draw long, bloody lines into the flesh. He doesn't even flinch.

"Project Bio: A government project intended to create the perfect soldier by fusing cybernetics with a biological entity. The subject of the project went haywire six years ago and escaped. Danger ranking: 94.3, approach with extreme caution."

Duncan shoots me an inquisitive look when he finishes reading. "What the heck are cybernetics and biological entities?"

I finally stop struggling against his arm and resort to glaring daggers at him. "It's technology and living things, moron."

Duncan shrugs. "Not my fault you people don't use interspecial language. Why do you guys want to catch something you created anyway?"

I stare at him for a few moments, trying to decide how much to tell him. This information is classified and is definitely not for ears like Duncan's. But then again, I realise with a small sigh, he'll probably just look it up.

"Project Bio is a being specifically created for killing. Due to the technological tampering it underwent, it doesn't experience emotion or empathy like other living things. It doesn't care who it kills, or how many. It's dangerous and psychotic and needs to be completely and utterly destroyed."

Duncan stares at me, his bright blue eyes wide with shock, before finally saying, "You feel pretty strongly about this huh?" I say nothing. He doesn't need to know how personal this really is for me.

He finally removes his arm and I quickly log out of the WSSC database.

Turning on my heel, I start to walk out the room, but pause, remembering something.

I turn back to Duncan. "Okay, you've asked me a bunch of questions, now it's my turn."

"What do you want to know?" His tone is nonchalant, as always, but I can't miss the way his shoulders tense slightly.

"Why did that human at the bar hate basts?"

Duncan shrugs. "Humans have history with basts, that's all. Given your kind avoid us like the plague, it's nothing you need to worry about."

**A/N: Got a little more info on Project Bio here. First of all, I'd like to thank Omni Spectator for actually guessing at the plot, though I will neither confirm nor deny your guess ;). **

**Tension is building between Courtney and her team. Will they keep it together, or will their love interests tear them apart? And what history do humans have with basts? Only one way to find out, right? Please review!**


	9. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Total Drama franchise.**

My claw gauntlets slash easily through the pillow dummy, scattering bits of fluff everywhere. Whirling around, I scratch at a dummy set up behind me before delivering a kick to the last one standing. Panting heavily, I survey the damage.

My room now has decimated pillows and stuffing all over the floor, as well as yet more stuffing floating around in the air. One piece touches my nose and I sneeze forcefully, sending it whirling away again.

Growling with frustration, I start to clean up my mess.

I've been trying to keep up with my combat training ever since I got on this ship. I've tried everything from practicing my moves on the walls (which hurt my hands and feet) to my latest technique, making practice dummies out of pillows. Now that the dummies have been completely destroyed and I'm picking up the mess, I can see that this idea was probably the worst of them all. It also begs the question of what my head's going to rest on tonight.

I settle for shoving the pillow husks and stuffing into one corner of my room before sitting on my mattress. I glare at the pile as I remove my gauntlets, throwing them onto the foot of my bed before falling back and lying on my mattress.

I hate this place. I hate it with every ounce of my being. I can't securely view the WSSC database, I can't stay on top of my game with training, and I can't even invite Trent or Bridgette to a spar since they're too distracted by their crushes. Also, they're giving me the silent treatment right now. Honestly, they can be so immature!

Letting out a low growl, I dig my nails into my mattress, enjoying the feeling of them piercing holes into the fabric.

That's another thing I miss about training: it's an outlet. I'm the most easy-going person I know, but even I need to let out my rage and frustrations every now and then, and training is the perfect way to do that. Nothing helps me calm down more than tearing apart combat drones or testing my agility in the obstacle course. Actually, beating up other teams helps too.

But right now, on this ship, with all my rage and frustrations at a breaking point, I have no outlet. All I can do is grit my teeth and try to keep myself from screaming at, well, everything! Bridgette and Trent's childishness, Duncan's… everything, the inability to properly train, it's all driving me crazy!

My door slides open. Not bothering to look at whoever came in, I mutter, "Get out."

"Yeesh, someone's in a bad mood."

I glare at the ceiling and turn on my side so my back is to Duncan. I'm determined not to let him bait me into another argument this time. I'm even less in the mood than usual.

I hear his footsteps as he crosses the room. By my calculations, he's right by my pile of decimated pillows. Sure enough, the tell-tale rustle of moving fabric can soon be heard.

"Did you seriously destroy all my pillows?"

"Maybe." I allow a hint of smugness to enter my voice. I hadn't had enough pillows of my own to make the practice dummies, so I decided to "borrow" some/all of Duncan's.

"Seriously Princess, not cool."

"Call me Princess one more time and I'll shred your mattress."

"What do you have against me getting a good night's sleep?"

"You're very annoying when you're wide awake."

Duncan's footsteps restart again and I feel the mattress shift slightly as he sits down beside me. I scowl and get up, walking to the other side of the room and keeping my back to Duncan.

Duncan starts tapping his foot. "So… I'm guessing that you, being the over-achiever princess that you are, have been trying to use my pillows to train?" I don't reply. My tail doesn't even twitch at the word "princess". I'm doing really well.

"But since this weird obsession with being the best is kinda messing up my lifestyle, how about you and I fight? I'm willing to bet I'd make a more challenging opponent than a pillow."

I don't bother to hide my derisive snort. "Right, you, a human, against me, in a fight? You'd be even easier than the pillows."

My comment is met with silence. Did I actually manage to shut Duncan up? Wow, that's probably the biggest accomplishment of my life, and that's saying something!

But my pride is short-lived, when all of a sudden my legs get swept out from under me. I yelp as I fall forwards sticking out my hands to catch myself. Above me, Duncan chuckles. "You were saying?"

I growl, tail lashing, as I jump to my feet and aim a punch at Duncan's smug face. He catches my fist easily, not even blinking, and rams his straight into my stomach. I cough, doubling over, and slash out with my nails. Dark red lines are drawn along Duncan's knee, but all he does is frown down at the wound like one would look at a bug-bite. Not in pain, just irritated. But it's a distraction.

Copying his move from earlier, I spin my body around rapidly using my hands and swing my leg into his. He grunts as his legs give way and he collapses to the floor.

Jumping back to my feet, I place one foot on Duncan's chest, preventing him from rising. He just smirks up at me, grabbing my foot with both hands and throwing me off him. I roll as I hit the floor, coming back up in a crouch. Duncan gets up quickly as well, settling into a fighting stance. He's not favouring his injured leg, not even a little.

I frown in confusion at the injury. From other spars I've had with humans through the course of my training, I've found that when minor wounds are inflicted on them, the pain usually takes a while to fade and that, until it does, they heavily favour the injured body part. Yet here Duncan was, leaning on his injured leg just as he would do normally. Strange…

I slowly start to try to circle around him, and he does the same, keeping me directly in his line of sight. I switch direction, and so does he, wearing that annoying smirk. I keep walking around my area of the room, and Duncan keeps on walking in the opposite direction. Until he bumps into my bed.

He glances down at the piece of furniture in surprise. The distraction is all I need.

Putting on a burst of speed, I lunge forward. I've seen human reaction speeds. He won't be able to stop my attack.

His head turns. His freaky blue eyes widen as he sees me. And then… he sidesteps. Well, the action is so hasty it's more like a side stumble, but it's enough. My attack will miss.

To keep from crashing head-long into the bed, I try jumping off the sideboard. But I overestimate its size and one foot slams into the mattress instead.

My body immediately begins to fall and I stretch out one hand to try and catch myself. A sharp pain shoots up through my wrist and I hiss, instinctively cradling it to my chest and letting myself fall. I hurriedly push myself up from the floor with my good hand and settle back into a standing position, wincing in pain as I curl my fingers and hands into fists, ready for Duncan's next attack.

But he doesn't attack. Instead, he frowns slightly at me with his head cocked to one side. "Is your wrist okay?"

"It's fine!" I snap back at him. First rule of fighting: never let your opponent on that you're in pain.

He reaches out a grips my injured wrist tightly. I'm able to prevent a flinch at his touch. He raises an eyebrow at me before giving my wrist a small flick. This time, I can't bite back the yowl of pain as what feels like hundreds of needles arc up through my arm.

"That," Duncan deadpans after I finish screaming, "is not the sound someone makes when they're wrist is "fine"."

I wrench my hand away from him, hissing as more pain pierces through my wrist, and cradle it to my chest. "Fine, I think I sprained it. Happy?" I spit the words, pumping them full of resentment, but don't look at him. My hateful gaze is trained on the floor. I allowed myself to be injured. In a real fight, this sprain might be the cause of my death! All because of a stupid misjudgement. All this time away from HQ must be affecting my game even worse than I feared.

Duncan sighs and marches out of my room. I don't lift my gaze from the floor.

Only once his footsteps have completely faded away from my hearing do I allow the pain of my sprain to enter my face. I slump down on my bed, massaging my hand. Allowing myself a small groan, I rest my head against the wall and shut my eyes.

Someone comes back into my room. Just like with Duncan, I don't bother to acknowledge their presence in any way other than to erase all traces of pain from my expression. The weight of the mattress shifts as they sit down next to me.

"Alright Klutz Cat, quit moping and give me your wrist."

I suppress a groan. Seriously? Again?

I turn my head, intending to glare at him, but instead I find myself frowning with confusion at the ice-pack in his hand. I raise a quizzical eyebrow at him and all he does is sigh with exasperation and grab my wrist by force, prompting a gasp of pain from me.

He holds the ice-pack to the sprain, glaring at it with annoyance.

Finally, it starts to sink in. Duncan is helping me. He's pressing an ice-pack to my wound. I would've expected him to laugh and bend my wrist even further back so that it got even worse. Yet here he is, holding an ice-pack to it. He's actually being… _nice_.

A wondering smile pulls itself across my face. Catching it, he glares at me. "What?"

"Nothing. I'm just a bit surprised that you're actually a nice person."

"No I'm not." He grumbles, turning his attention back to my wrist.

"Then why are you helping me?"

Duncan doesn't answer, instead grumbling about how he's "not nice" and occasionally I catch the words: "crazy cat".

It doesn't matter, now that I've seen the truth. Big, bad, punk Duncan is actually nothing more than an overgrown teddy bear.

**A/N: And now we see Duncan's softer side, as well as yet another weird aspect of him! He's able to completely ignore pain! Thanks to Omni Spectator for hazarding a guess as to why Duncan has all these weird quirks (though I will neither confirm nor deny your guess ;) ) and believe me, there will be more weirdness to come! How will Courtney treat Duncan after this newest revelation? Will she ever make up with her team? Will I ever stop asking you these questions? Just keep reading! Please review!**


	10. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I own nothing!**

I smile contently as I walk back to my room after dinner. I may not like staying on this ship but I've got to admit, DJ's cooking is way better than the food we get at HQ, even if it does mean having to watch Duncan eat (never a pretty sight).

My smile gives way to a frown at the thought of Duncan. Ever since I discovered that he's actually a nice guy and the whole "bad-boy" thing was just a cover he's been going out of his way to be an even bigger jerk than usual. Tripping me up, grabbing my tail, coming up with endless stupid nicknames, I swear it's like he wants to be hated! What's his damage?

"Courtney!"

I turn around and my eyes widen with surprise. Bridgette's running towards me, waving frantically to get my attention. I thought she was still giving me the silent treatment?

She grips my arm and starts tugging me down the hall. "Come on, there's something I have to show you!"

I'm still a little bewildered by Bridgette finally talking to me, but I let her drag me away. Maybe she's finally come to her senses and realised that a relationship between her and Geoff would lead to nothing but disaster. I'm only disappointed that it's taken this long.

We reach Bridgette's room and she all but shoves me through the door. I stagger and take a moment to regain my balance before giving her my full attention.

"So what did you want to show me?"

She rushes over to her bed and whips back the covers, picking up something that had been lying underneath them.

"This morning, I was coming back here after brushing my teeth, and I found _this_ under my covers!"

She holds the thing up for me to see and my jaw drops. It's a pink, heart-shaped clay bowl with macaroni stuck around the outside. And on the inside, are two halves of different pictures. One half is a photo of Bridgette, just wandering around the ship from the looks of it. I don't even think she knows her picture's being taken. And the other half is a picture of Geoff with his arm around someone, DJ I think, but next to the half-picture of Bridgette, it looks like his arm was around _her_.

I pull a face and recoil from the horrendous thing. "What the heck?"

"It gets worse." Bridgette warns me, "Look!"

Bridgette turns the bowl over, and I can see that there's an inscription etched into the back that reads: _"I hope you think of me whenever you drop loose change into this"_

Bridgette grips her throat in one hand and gags while I face palm. Over the weeks, I've gotten the impression that Geoff is a bit dim, but this? You'd think he's never met a girl before! How stupid can you be?

There's a knock on the door, followed by a brief pause before it slides open and Trent steps through.

"Hey Bridge, come over to the control room, you're gonna want to see…" He trails off upon noticing my presence. His friendly expression crumbles into a frown and he pointedly turns away from me and walks back out the room.

I roll my eyes. Glad to see Trent's still acting like a five-year-old.

I walk behind Bridgette on the way to the observation deck, wondering what Trent could have wanted her to see. Maybe an old abandoned space station? Or a meteor shower?

Bridgette abruptly stops and turns to me. I come to a stumbling halt to avoid running into her and give her a questioning look.

"Are you still going on about how Trent and I are getting too close with the crew?"

I raise an eyebrow at her. Seriously?

"Uh, yes! Being friends with the Gwen, DJ, Duncan and Geoff is fine and all, but like I've already told you guys, it won't do to actually develop feelings for them! After all, we're still members of the WSSC!"

Bridgette sighs and gives me a patient look. I almost snort. _She's_ being patient with _me?_ I'm the only one on the team who's thinking straight! Besides, she can't still have feelings for Geoff, can she? Not after that ridiculous gift! Ugh, it actually makes me want to puke just thinking about it!

"Courtney, have you considered that maybe there's a life for us outside the WSSC?"

I frown a little. A life outside the WSSC?

Bridgette sighs and rubs her scaled arm. "It's just that, in the WSSC, life's pretty much a never-ending competition. We're always trying to raise our rank, to stand out, to be recognised. But here, we don't have to worry about any of that. We don't have to be constantly trying to impress anyone or trying to get some kind of reward. We can just… relax, you know?"

My jaw hits the floor. "Are you suggesting that we… _leave_ the WSSC? That we stay here?"

Bridgette nods eagerly.

I gape at her for a few moments. Is she serious?

When her hopeful expression doesn't change, I set my face into a stony scowl before turning on my heel and stomping off.

Leave the WSSC? Was Bridgette crazy? Sure, life there can be a bit hectic at times but that's true for any job! Besides, Project Bio is still on the loose and the WSSC has all the best resources for tracking it down, once and for all. I need to destroy it, it's all I've been working towards all these years. It's the reason I joined the WSSC in the first place! I'm not going to throw away my best shot at vengeance just for an easier life! All the best results come from hard-work and dedication. No one ever succeeded by choosing the easiest path in life. If Bridgette wants to throw away her future then fine, but I'm not joining her.

All thoughts of Bridgette's proposal vanish from my mind as I stare out the control room window. Floating in front of the ship is what looks to be a gigantic ball of swirling junk. How in the universe did so much of it even get there?

Duncan, DJ, Gwen, Geoff and Trent are already in the room when I arrive. Bridgette enters soon after me, making extra sure not to look at Geoff, and does a double take when she sees the trash ball.

"What the…" Her voice trails off in pure amazement.

Duncan gestures to the trash ball dramatically. "Behold, the great planet Earth!"

"That's Earth?" I exclaim. Duncan had told me that it had a bunch of stuff in high-speed orbit around it, but I hadn't imagined it to be this bad!

He snorts at my reaction. "You should see Continent. The only difference is all the trash is on the _inside_."

Trent frowns at the punk in confusion. "I thought Continent was a gigantic space station where the human race could continue to live. Why would it be full of junk?"

"Because the council can't be bothered to give us what we need to live proper lives." Duncan shrugs, "It's basically poverty-central."

I roll my eyes. "Now you're lying. I know for a fact that my father made many missions to Continent to ensure that living conditions where up to par."  
"Well they didn't get any better in my lifetime sweetheart." Duncan assured me.

"How were we even supposed to complete our mission?" Bridgette interrupts our argument with her question. "No way can some shuttles get through all that junk!"

"Exactly." Gwen agrees with a nod to Bridgette, "You weren't supposed to complete your mission. Seriously, Earth's been left completely to its own devices for, like, five hundred years. That's more than enough time to become somewhat hospitable again. For some reason Chris McLean doesn't want word of it getting out."

Bridgette's fins flare with outrage and she tosses her arms up into the air. "So he sent us on a mission for no reason?" 

Gwen shrugs. "Pretty much."

I cast a sympathetic glance at Bridgette. I remember how I felt when Duncan told me all this. It really stinks to be a pawn, especially for Chris.

"Well, I think that this mission was a blessing in disguise." Trent says with a grin at the avemales, "Otherwise I'd never have gotten to see your beautiful face."

"Oh shut up." Gwen mutters, but her cheeks are flushed pink.

"If you two are going to keep making goo-goo eyes at each other," Duncan drawls, "can you at least leave the room first?" They both glare at him and he rolls his eyes.

Though I'd never admit it out loud, I agree with him. It's bad enough having to bear witness to Trent's irresponsibility, but the whole "lovey-dovey" vibe coming from those two is downright sickening!

I turn my attention back to the trash-ball that is, apparently, Earth. "Well we can't just let Chris get away with… whatever game he's playing. What if he's stockpiling weapons on that planet? It could be a threat to the safety of all the other species!"

Geoff scratches his head. "I guess, but how are you gonna get past all that junk? It's moving pretty fast."

"There are small openings in the trash." I reply pointing to Earth, "If we can just get through one of them…"

"We'd be crushed before we could get to the other side of it." Duncan deadpans with another roll of his eyes. "Great plan Princess."

"I'm with Geoff and Duncan." DJ puts in, looking at all the shifting junk nervously, "I kinda want to still be alive by tomorrow."

"Seconded." Gwen calls out.

I glare at them heatedly. It was just a suggestion! I don't hear _them_ bringing up any ideas!

Trent strokes his chin and frowns at the Earth thoughtfully. "It's true that with only the thruster speeds we won't be able to get past that junk shell. But maybe…" He trails off, his frown deepening. I stare at him for a few moments before scowling impatiently. "But maybe what?" I snap, tail lashing.

"Maybe…" He smiles sheepishly and spreads his hands, "with a lightjump?"

**A/N: Wow… who knew space junk could be such a problem? Our heroes have reached Earth, but that's not all that's going on. Bridgette wanting to leave the WSSC, conditions on Continent, Geoff screwing up (that last one's not as important but it's still funny), this story's getting heated! How will Trent's suggestion go down? Will the group land on Earth? Find out in the next chapter! Please review!**


	11. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: I own nothing!**

"Your crush on Gwen has started messing with your brain." Duncan deadpans to Trent.

"Seriously Duncan? You don't have to reject everyone's idea." Gwen tells him with a roll of her eyes, though I can't help but notice that she's blushing slightly. "Trent's idea has merit. You said yourself, the trash is orbiting the planet to fast to get through, so, what better way to get through than by moving faster than the trash?"

"Staying the hell away from it in the first place." Duncan snaps back at her, "If we use a lightjump we'll either overshoot and go even deeper into the Wawanakwa Sector than we already are, if not leave it completely, or we'll crash into the Earth. Either way, we eventually die."

I glare with frustration at Earth, my mission, floating in my clear line of sight surrounded by its garbage shield. Chris obviously ensured that me and my team would be underprepared for this mission and unable to complete it, so he must be hiding something on that planet. But what? It probably isn't sanctioned if he's hiding it from law enforcement.

"I don't really get what you guys are talking about," I turn to look at Geoff glancing back and forth between Gwen and Duncan in confusion. "but if we want to use a lightjump, I'm so in! Becoming the fastest thing in the universe rules!" He pumps his fist into the air and flares his fins with excitement. I gape at him briefly before facepalming. "Geoff, Duncan literally just said that a lightjump will most likely kill us in this scenario. How does that "rule"?"

"Come on, it's like the universe's most epic roller coaster! How can it not rule?" Geoff exclaims, not losing an ounce of enthusiasm. I'm beginning to think he has water for brains.

"Well, I, for one, am with Duncan." DJ announces, folding his arms decisively. "Sorry dude," he casts and apologetic glance at Trent as he continues, "but using a lightjump is just crazy. Those things are for long-distance travel. As in, really, really long-distance travel. If we use one this close, we'll definitely die."

"We'll be fine as long as we shut it off quickly enough." Trent defends his idea.

I raise an eyebrow at him. "Trent, did you learn nothing during all our piloting classes? Out in space, a lightjump will take us 186 282 miles in just one second _at least_. We can't possibly shut it off quickly enough!"

Trent waves off my scolding. "All we have to do is fly out a bit so that we can wait at least one second before crashing into Earth, that's all. This ship's been modified to fly beyond standard speed, right? Traveling far enough should take, like, half an hour."

Duncan shrugs and glances at me. "He's not wrong."

Geoff smiles at Bridgette, probably trying to get on her good side again. Well good luck with that! That bowl he made her was awful to say the least! And taking a picture of her when she's not looking? That's just creepy.

"Yo Bridge, what do you think we should do?"

"Well," Bridgette begins, shooting Geoff an annoyed look, "I'm not really that driven to complete this mission. I'm sorry Courtney but it's the truth! And seeing as this thing will most likely lead to all of our deaths… I'm gonna say no."

Trent taps his chin thoughtfully. "That makes three votes for using a lightjump and three votes for just forgetting about it. Courtney, what do you think? Should we complete the mission we were assigned or just leave well alone?"

"And live for another day." Duncan adds.

I scowl and fold my arms, thinking. It's true, the odds of us surviving a lightjump in these circumstances are very, very low. Practically non-existent. It would be smarter to just forget about Earth altogether. I mean, it's not like the humans on Continent can exactly get to it any more, what with all that junk floating around it, so what's the point in checking if it's inhabitable or not?

But then again, it's not just about checking to see if it's habitable. Chris is up to something on that planet, and if I know anything about Chris it's that he has one sick little power-hungry mind. I hold no doubts that whatever he's hoarding down there might mean the end of the peace that's existed among the intelligent species all these years. Still, to risk our lives so much…

Then a thought strikes me that decides my choice. It's a very high possibility that Chris is hiding new, powerful weapons on Earth. And what weapon is more powerful, more dangerous, than Project Bio?

Setting my face stubbornly, I raise my chin to look at the rest of the crew. "We're using a lightjump."

**A/N: Okay, I know this chapter's slightly shorter than the others, but I thought that Courtney's decision would be the perfect place to stop. It's decided, the team is using a lightjump to get to Earth. Will they survive? What will they find there? Is Courtney's theory right? All in good time dear readers. Please review!**


	12. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: I own nothing!**

We're all sitting in the dining room, since it's the only place in the ship other than the control room and our dorms with chairs, but Duncan shooed us out of the control room so we wouldn't annoy him while he put the ship into a lightjump and none of us want to be alone during the jump.

Right now, Duncan is just driving the ship out so we're a safe distance from Earth to have a chance of surviving a lightjump. I was a bit miffed that I wouldn't be doing it. If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself. But I have to admit, I don't have a whole lot of experience with lightjumps and Duncan at least seems to know what he's doing, so I'm just going to have to trust him, even though he's a rude, rebellious, totally untrustworthy criminal. Yeah… the odds aren't looking good. And judging from the others' faces, they feel the same.

DJ has curled up into a shaky ball, his furry goat legs tucked up to his chest. His eyes are wild, staring at nothing. Before all this, he'd retired to his dorm to write his will. Something about leaving everything he had to his mama.

Gwen is more composed, but her wings keep furling and unfurling, giving away how nervous she feels. Her dark eyes are wide, darting from side to side, looking for any sort of distraction, anything to make her forget that we are probably heading to our deaths. I'm starting to think that maybe she only agreed to this thing because it was Trent's idea.

Speak of the Elfae, he's not looking much better. He has his guitar with him, but the music is, well, awful. Just random notes mushed together in an erratic, rhythmless strumming. It actually hurts my ears, _that's_ how bad it is, it physically causes pain!

I almost snort at his obvious discomfort. This was his idea after all.

Bridgette keeps switching between breathing through her gills and through her lungs. I can see them opening and closing frantically and she keeps gasping for air as her oxygen supply is abruptly cut off. Her blue skin is sickly pale, and her fins are fluttering nonstop.

Geoff is at least breathing normally, but his fins are fluttering just as much. He's taken off his hat and is turning in over and over in his fingers with agitation. His skin, like Bridgette's, has gone pale blue.

I like to think I'm handling myself with more composure, but I can't deny that I'm nervous. I'm kneading my own legs with my nails (which hurts) in an attempt to calm myself down. My ears are dipped lower than I can ever remember them being and a quick glance at my tail is all I need to see that it's puffed up to a level that's almost comical. My breaths are coming in pants through my open mouth and it takes all my focus to remember to swallow every now and then so I don't drool.

The intercom suddenly crackles and I jump, hissing in startlement. Soon, the crackling is replaced by Duncan's voice.

"Alright guys, we're a safe distance. I can use the radar to detect for gaps in Earth's trash armour. Before I engage the lightjump, are you guys sure about dying in the next ten or so seconds?"

I'm not, not in the least, but I need to find out what Chris is hiding. So I tilt my chin up and glare at the speakers, even though Duncan can't see me. "Just do it already Duncan."

"Well folks, you heard the crazy cat lady."

I open my mouth to protest against this latest nickname when the computerised countdown begins.

"10… 9… 8… 7…"

That's it. No going back now. At least it will be a quick death.

"5… 4… 3… 2… 1… engaging lightjump."

If it weren't for the goose bumps prickling all along my skin, I wouldn't have been able to tell we were moving faster than light.

Barely two seconds into the lightjump, the computerised voice echoes through the speakers again. I can't help but feel annoyed at its lack of emotion. Hello, we're practically killing ourselves here!

"Disengaging thrusters. Leaving light current. Disengaging lightjump."

My skin stops tingling from the sensation of being a part of a light current, confirming that the lightjump has stopped. I frown in confusion. We aren't dead. Did we fly out too far?

The computerised voice on the intercom is replaced by the slightly more emotional (though no less irritating) voice of Duncan.

"Okay, so I've got good news and I've got bad news, which do you wanna hear first?"

"Good news!" Bridgette and DJ practically shriek in unison. I wince and cover my ears with my hands. Couldn't they have at least a little more respect for those of us with sensitive hearing?

"Well the good news is that the lightjump worked without killing us all, somehow."

Geoff whoops with delight and starts spinning his hat around on one finger in celebration.

"Whoa there party-boy, I haven't told you the bad news yet." Duncan's voice crackles at us again. "The thrusters are dead, and we're falling through Earth's atmosphere at super-fast speeds and are probably going to crash on the ground below. Oh, and we're on fire, did I mention that?"

I want to scream at him to stop taking away any slim hope we have of survival, but I know he'll only laugh and call me "Drama Queen" or something.

I dig my nails into the table, holding on to it for dear life as the ship falls. Unbidden, a memory comes to mind, of when I first met Duncan. I was chasing him through Dock Station 7, and he made a joke about cats landing on their feet. Back then, all the comment had done was irk me, but now, for some strange reason, I just want to burst out laughing. Maybe because I'm falling to my death in a flaming ship.

I glance up to see how the others are taking this and wrinkle my nose in disappointment. DJ is sobbing hysterically (surprise surprise), but that's not what's got my tail in a twist. That would be Gwen and Bridgette holding desperately onto Trent and Geoff. Seriously? I mean, Gwen I can sort of excuse because she's not with the WSSC but Bridgette? And after that horrid bowl?

I glare at them in disapproval, though they're too busy cuddling with the boys to notice. Since we're probably about to die right now, I'll refrain from scolding them. But if we do miraculously survive this, like we survived the lightjump, they're in for it.

Terminal velocity must be slower on Earth than on other planets, because by the time the ship hit the ground it felt like we'd been falling for hours. And it didn't exactly hit the ground gently. The initial shock caused me to bounce up so hard my nails were wrenched out of the table. The ship then proceeded to bounce and roll all over the place, sending us tumbling around like bingo balls, colliding with each other and the furniture (which was also flying all over the place). At one point the table rams into my chest. I hear a sharp crack and I gasp in pain as what feels like acid sloshes around my chest. I must've broken a rib. Red warning lights flash and alarms blare from the speakers. Someone is screaming, but I can't tell who it is. I just curl up into a tight ball and let myself bounce around, hoping nothing will crack open my skull.

When the bouncing and colliding finally stop, I let myself unknot and just lie against the wall that I wound up landing by, panting heavily, staring at nothing.

The intercom starts crackling again, though this time it's mixed in with white noise and sparking.

"Every… okay? Can't… throat… my… voice… talk…"

"We're all good dude!" Geoff cries out hoarsely, flashing a thumbs-up.

"Speak for yourself." DJ moans, pinned under the table. The others soon join in, adding reports on their injuries. Gwen broke a wing, Bridgette tore one of her fins, Trent's hand is crushed and, of course, I have a broken rib. I expect Duncan to make a comment on our bad luck or at least make a cat joke, but the intercom remains silent. Duncan did mention something about his throat… maybe he's lost his voice or something? Oh please let it be that he has lost his voice!

Grunting with the effort, I heave myself onto my feel and start to shuffle painfully towards the door. The others are all too exhausted to ask where I'm going.

I keep going until I find a broken window that I can slip through. The jagged edges of glass scratch at my skin, but I can barely feel it over the aches of my countless bruises.

I tumble gracelessly onto the ground outside the ship. Shoving myself up so I'm once again standing and… galaxies almighty.

The sky is bright blue with fluffy white clouds lazily drifting across its great expanse. Bright green shoots of grass rise up from the ground glowing cheerfully in the sunlight. Trees bearing fresh, juicy-looking fruit grow scattered around the landscape, their foliage in full leafy bloom.

Earth is beautiful… but its beauty is marred by these weird little generator things sticking out of the ground, pulsing with a strange, blue light.

**A/N: And finally they get to Earth! For all of you who are already writing out in your reviews about why Earth is flourishing so much when all that junk is surrounding it and why is Earth's sky still blue and all that stuff, believe me, there's a very good reason for that. A reason… that you will have to wait to find out ;) . What are those "generator things" doing on Earth? Is Chris really up to something as sinister as Courtney thinks? Only one way to find out! We must push forward! Please review!**


	13. Sorry!

**A/N:**

**Hey everyone. **

**I'm really sorry to say this since I know many of you have been following this story and I have received such great and positive feedback from you all, but I don't think I will be continuing this story. I've just lost the previous enjoyment it gave me, and it's started to feel more like homework than anything else. I may continue this someday, or update it at a much slower basis (like, once a month) but I think I just need a break from the Wawanakwa Sector and Project Bio and Chris and Courtney and all of them, at least until I can fall in love with this story once again. Again, I'm really, really sorry about this, especially since I left you guys on a bit of a cliff-hanger, but I've just lost all liking of this story. Hopefully I'll find the inspiration to restart again soon. Thanks to everyone who read this story, and I hate to disappoint you :'( . Stay tuned, I might post a new chapter sometime next month. I'm hoping that, by then, I'll have rediscovered the joy of writing this fanfic.**

**xXPokePotterIslandXx**


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